The Dragon King's Obsession

THREE

A gigantic canopy bed, twice as large as my big bed, covered in velvet coloured satin sheets, stood in the middle of the room. The drapes were designed with intricate gold threading. Without touching them, I knew they were heavy. The wooden frame of the bed was a brilliant dark brown, the same as that of the shelf of books and parchment. The tea table, drawer, chairs and wardrobe were all made out of the rich wood. I stood at the edge of the large bed to contemplate my options.

I was in the King’s chambers. A part of me was thrilled. I had gotten this close to him. No other hunter could brag about this. The level headed part of me knew that this was nothing. I could not take him.

My quiver had emptied while we flew. I wasn’t – My sword! Hope bloomed in my heart.

Grandfather's weapon of choice was a sword. Therefore at thirteen when I started proper training to be a hunter, he had had one forged from the finest metal just for me. Our family emblem was engraved on the hilt, a clipped wing and an arrow forming an X.

My father had also gifted me my mother’s bow and a set of hand made arrows. They had fit my hunt more and were quick to become my weapon of choice. I carried the sword from my grandfather as a sign of respect to him.

The heavy door creaked open. My gaze snapped to the broad-chested man that walked in. My heart jumped into my throat as I took a step back.

He looked at me with a scowl before turning his back on me.

It was a different mood from a few hours earlier. It solidified my belief that these beasts were terrible. How could a man’s temperament go from bored to enraged in such a short time?

His back to me gave me ideas. I pulled my sword out by the hilt. My breath slowed as I concentrated all my effort in not making a noise as I drew my sword. Then I charged with my sword poised.

The dragon covering his torso shifted. The jolt of surprise made me stumble on the thick rug. The beast turned to me as I righted myself. I could not stop. I launched myself at him as he watched.

My sword was a millimetre short of piercing his skin when he grabbed it. His hands closed on parallel sides of my sword. I pushed hard to get the blade to puncture his skin. To draw his filthy blood!

Just as I was starting to give up, I tried to retrieve my sword, defeated, but his hands started to glow. He did not pull at it but he did not let go either. The weapon became too hot to be held as his hands glowed.

“You bastard!” I let go with a cry, blowing on my reddened palms.

He regarded me with distaste before bending my sword in half. His biceps bulged as blood dripped from his palms while the blade cut into him. He threw the sword and it fell with a loud clatter to the ground. He stalked towards me, flames crackling in his eyes.

I said a prayer to Saint Paul as he crowded into my space.

“Get away from me!” I stepped to the side. Once and then again. He followed until I was closed off to a corner.

“Suck ” He brought his bloodied palm up to my face. I winced, disgusted even by the thought. The injury had healed but the blood remained coating his palm.

“God forbid! Get away from me, you beast!” I raised my hands to push away. He did not go.

He gripped the back of my head with one hand while others pushed against my lips. “Suck!” The command made me act without thought. Like a street dog, I lapped away at the blood on his palm. Anger made my eyes sting.

I wanted to do terrible things to this man. I wanted to cut out his heart, rip off his wings, stab out his eyes!

I had never been so helpless, so powerless. Who was it that could challenge a Hunter? The men feared me. The women envied me but this man had reduced me to a street dog in a few hours of meeting.

It took a second for me to realise his hands were running through my hair. My body started to calm but I fought it. It was my weakness. Having hands gently comb through my hair.

“You are – dazzling.” The anger on his face faded to something unrecognizable. His other hand reached up to my face.

“Don't touch me!” My hands quivered at my situation. They tightened into fists beside me. He ignored me.

"You burn bright – like the sun. Your temper – beautiful.” His hand was out of my hair. I slapped the other one away. “You have the temper of one of my own." I squirmed at that disgusting implication.

"I am a Hunter!" Never had I been so humiliated. Never had I wanted to kill as badly as I did then. Never had I itched to put an arrow in anyone as I did at that moment.

"I know. Yet you –" His rough hands grazed my lips and my body betrayed me with a shiver. He wrenched away with an accusatory look before storming off.

I let my mud-covered body fall into the satin silk sheets. My eyes stung but I held it all in.

I felt filthy, a damsel in distress. My identity had been taken from me and I knew not how to restore it. He had gone with my half bent sword, clicked the door behind him. I rushed and tried the knob but it did not turn.

Just as I let the first sign of defeat slide down my cheek, the door pushed open with effort.

A middle-aged woman and two young girls came into the room. The woman curtsied so low while her girls gawked at me.

“Adela! Olivia! Where are your manners!?” The woman scolded. They quickly dipped into a half curtsy before coming back up to stare.

“Oh, it’s okay. They don’t – There’s no need to curtsey.” I muttered, feeling hot. The grime on my body became more irritating as I grew embarrassed.

This was the reason I did not keep attendants. How does one put such elderly people to such tasks?

The younger girl beamed brighter while the woman looked unsure.

“If you insist, My Lady,” She said. The girls hurried behind me to a curtained off area of the vast room. “We will run you a bath, My Lady. Do you have any preference? We have mint and lemongrass soaps. Or would you prefer a handmade mixture of fine herbs that I personally crushed, My Lady? “ She was abuzz with a hunger to please. I took a liking to her while she swayed in nervousness.

“Either is fine, thank you. I shall take a bath myself.“ I reached for her bowl but she jerked back before I could grip it.

“No!” The two girls rushed out with wide eyes at her shout. “I mean, the Tor Drakis has ordered you be washed and powdered. I shall not disobey an order from my king,” She shivered. The thought alone was like a bug crawling about her body with the way she contorted her face.

I turned on her with a sharp look. The Drakii were not blessed with many women. Even so, the demeanour of this woman gave her out to be human. She must have been taken as a slave to work for the beasts and now she thought herself to be one of them.

“You are human. The Tor Drakis is not your king.” I uttered the name with a sneer. She smiled at my outburst. The smile of an adult to a child under an illusion.

“You are one of them.” She said with a smile.

“One of who?”

“One of the many who presume these men are monsters, beasts.” She shook her head as she spoke.

“And you think not? You believe these – things are natural? You think they are not monsters who go about killing young children? Burning while villages to the ground?” Her stance irritated me. It was also quite fascinating. What did these men tell their servants to get them to work amiably?

“They are not any more of beasts than we are. Our kind have killed young dragons and wiped out lineages. We have –“ She spoke with emotional conviction, defending their atrocities. All is fair in war? Not when children were involved!

“Hurry now. Else the bathwater shall turn cold.” One of the girls stepped out from behind the curtains.

“I will have my bath myself,” I said.

“Nonsense!” The pudgy woman exclaimed. “Perhaps you are shy. I shall leave then. Adela will assist in washing you while Olivia tends your hair. You look to have been trampled by a horde. I shall visit the seamstress to get your dress.” She turned away and marched out before I could speak. A little key attached to a simple thread dangled off her neck. She took it off and unlocked the door.

Adela and Olivia were enthusiastic about washing me.

“There are only a few humans here. A lot of them are much older,” Olivia began, massaging my scalp skilfully.

“How did you get here?” I asked as Adela scrubbed my arm.

“I was born here!” She exclaimed with pride in her voice. I caught the stern look the other girl gave her at her words. Adela looked to be eighteen and the other sixteen but Olivia behaved so much younger.

“Fascinating,” I drawled, wincing as a crack of mud unravel as Adela stubbed away at my skin. “Did your mother get kidnapped?”

“What!? No! She was born here too. The Tor Drakis forbids kidnapping of any species!” Adela was to one to exclaim this time.

“I am not here of my own free will, am I? What do you call that!?” I asked in frustration. This had gone much worse than I expected it to go.

“You’re not?” Olivia became timid as she spoke.

“Why would I be?”

“You have no affection for our king?” She sounded so crestfallen. Like a child who found Santa's presents were from her mother. If I had water in my mouth, I would have splashed it about.

“What nonsense! Of course, I don’t like that – that beast!”

“Oh,” She muttered as she dried my hair. Adela scrubbed me a little harder as her sister dried my hair.

“You wandered into our territory. He is keeping you safe and you should be grateful,” The older girl said with a sour tone.

“Why, I shall be more grateful when he allows me to leave!”

“He saved you from death. Your life is his now.” Adela answered.

Barbaric.

They put a thick robe around me as I started to shiver. Adela cleaned the bath while Olivia combed through my hair.

“How do you have such thick hair? Mine falls off when a comb goes through it. I’ve used all the rice water, I’ve put in all the turmeric and used up a pint of olive oil,” She muttered.

“I have good genes,” I simply replied.

“Me too. My grandmother was originally from France. Is that not exciting? I speak a bit of French too! I should warn you that I’m not very good, though!”

The pudgy woman arrived, saving me from engaging further.

“What is this hideous thing?” I took a horrified step away from it.

They all stared at me in confusion as the woman laid out the outfit.

“Have you never seen a dress before?” Olivia asked but I was not alarmed at the dress. Not totally. I would never wear a dress except forced but this –

“The seamstress could not make something extravagant in such short time,” Adela snipped. “You shall have to make do with this.” She put her nose in the air.

 I absolutely refused to be dressed in such a ridiculous attire.

Somehow, I found my will overturned and a dress forced on me. It was a simple black one with an exaggerated clinched waist. Three gold buttons adorned the front and the sleeve stopped an inch above my wrist. It was woven with gold thread as was the bottom of the dress. Needless to say, it was something Goldie would wear.

They all gawked at me and I felt a familiar annoyance.

“The king will have to fend off many men to keep you.”